The first time I saw Javier
Sicilia was earlier this month, the night before the Caravana por la Paz (Caravan for Peace) crossed the Mexican border
into the United States for the first time. Sicilia arrived, slightly late, to a
smoldering-hot press conference in one of Tijuana's oldest shelters, the Casa
del Migrantes. He was relaxed, despite the fact he was hounded by reporters
from the moment he stepped onto the cracked sidewalk outside the building. For
a man carrying the weight of thousands of gruesome true stories about
disappearances, rapes, and assassinations, he moved with an almost eerie sense
of calm and purpose.

The goal of the Caravan is to raise awareness about the
United States' active role in the drug war as product consumers, foreign policy
partners, and firearms suppliers.

Since March 2011, when
Sicilia's 24-year-old son Juan Francisco was murdered by gunmen, the noted
Mexican poet has been single-minded in his mission: to raise awareness about
the hundreds of thousands of victims in Mexico's complex "drug war."
In the years following Mexican President Felipe Calderón's 2006 announcement of
a battle against drugs cartels, approximately 116,000 people have been killed
and "disappeared," though official government statistics claim a toll
of less than half that.

The grassroots Movement for Peace and Justice with Dignity,
also known the Caravan for Peace, was born. The traveling demonstration moved
through various Mexican states. One march from Cuernavaca to Mexico's capital
drew crowds in excess of 100,000 people. Participants faced death threats and
assassination attempts, and some succeeded: at least two activists with the
movement have been gunned down, and at least two have been abducted since it
began. In 2011, the movement gained worldwide attention; TIME magazine even
chose Sicilia as one of their "People of the Year."

Today, Sicilia and the
Caravan are headed in a new direction. A northern Caravan route is now in the
process of crisscrossing the United States in 5,600 miles, stopping in various
U.S. cities. The goal of the Caravan (on Twitter, #CaravanaUSA) is to raise awareness about the
United States' active role in the drug war as product consumers, foreign policy
partners, and firearms suppliers.

Inside the small
presentation room in Tijuana, on the eve of the Caravan's northern departure,
plastic banners and homemade signs covered the walls. Almost all featured the
faces of victims. Around the room's edges, journalists were crowded
shoulder-to-shoulder, surrounding neat rows of attendees sitting in white
plastic chairs.

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"Thank
you for being here," Sicilia began. His
blue button-down shirt was unbuttoned enough to reveal a tangle of amulet
necklaces, and he made a point of making eye contact with nearly
everyone in the room. "It's very hard to bear witness and
experience these victims' stories. But it's necessary to hear them, to see them
..."

Family members took turns on
the mic, recalling the kidnappings of loved ones who never returned and the
cold impunity haunting those touched by violence in Mexico. Mothers stood with
thick reams of documents in their hands, explaining a lack of official concern
from authorities regarding the deaths of their children. Local Tijuana
organizers also spoke, including Fernando Oceguedo, the founder of
Baja California's United Association For the Disappeared.

The next day, at dawn, the
Caravan crossed from Mexico into California in two full-size passenger buses.
The first demonstration took place in San Diego's Border Field State Park, the
swath of national park land abutting the U.S. border wall. Around 110 Caravan
members will continue traveling to Washington, D.C in the coming weeks with an
anticipated arrival date of September 10th.

After the death of his son, poet Javier Sicilia gave voice to the anguish of the Mexican people—and started a powerful movement of moral indignation against the senseless slaughter of the war on drugs.

What would happen if Mexican survivors of the “War on Drugs” reached out to work with Americans who have weathered its violence, too? Poet Javier Sicilia and his U.S.-bound Peace Caravan are about to find out.

Led by a popular poet, tens of thousands of protesters fill the streets of Mexico to speak out against the war on drugs.

Erin Siegal wrote this article for YES! Magazine, a national, nonprofit media organization that fuses powerful ideas and practical actions. Erin is a freelance
multimedia journalist based in Tijuana, Mexico. As a Senior Fellow at the Schuster
Institute for Investigative Journalism, she's investigated child trafficking in
international adoption. Her award-winning first book, Finding Fernanda, was released last year. Erin tweets at @ErinSiegal.